


Photographs

by Devilinthebox (princegrisejoie)



Series: TLAT Verse [2]
Category: Death Note
Genre: Almost Drowning, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Can be read separately from TLAT, Fireworks, Food Fight, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Photographs, Prompt Fill, Romantic Fluff, Sensuality, Slice of Life, Stargazing, Underwater, What-If, but TLAT compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:22:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3481118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princegrisejoie/pseuds/Devilinthebox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small collection of moments shared by L and Light after Kira's capture: baking, underwater, stargazing and watching the fireworks. Light remembers the histories that forged each of these memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Photographs

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT FILL. I don't have the exact prompt but the idea was to tell some memories captured by a photograph. I absolutely adored the idea and it's much longer than expected. Enjoy~

_As a little boy, I was sometimes asked what super-power I’d rather have. I would lift my shoulders, give a half-smile and pretend it didn’t interest me. In truth, I was unsettled by that question because I couldn’t quite figure out the acceptable answer. I’d look up to my father, or any adult in the room, and read nothing but incomprehensible amusement on their faces. My stomach would twist as it always did when my treacherous mind, unable to read a given situation, couldn’t craft a perfect answer. I grew up and discovered an injustice that made me nauseous. That if most people responded with invisibility and telekinesis, I wasn’t allowed to dream of power and control. Were they impure thoughts? Maybe, as they were precisely the ones I acted on that cursed day of November._

_Now, I am asking myself that same question, trying to determine the honest answer. I know exactly what it is. It’s been on my mind ever since I bought this photo-album._

_I wish I could stop time. I hate that it has to pass, when I spent so many hours dreaming it would go faster, take me some other place._

_But now, if I could just erase time..._

  
**Baking**

Kira didn't have the time to love, or laugh, or live. He was a martyr of his own making, half-grown and dead before his time. Now, Light had holes in his memory. It was a problem, as it made it easier to lie. He could write tales over the blank pages. Kira could be the beast, Light the saint torn apart by its fangs –his chest pierced by two swift, poisonous arrows - misfortune, fatality. Amnesia was too convenient. He counted on L to reinvent him. Presently, Light Yagami was an abstract concept. He hoped L could make a reality out of it. He had let him live for a reason, Light reassured himself.

The truth behind Kira unveiled, L had confined Light in a place somewhere in England. Compared to the fifty days of detention he had subjected himself to, it was almost pleasant. The room scented of lavender. Books had been stacked up for him on the bedside table. He found himself unable to let go of _Crime and Punishment_. He’d close his eyes, hoping to escape it and fall asleep for hours. After a while, the nightmares crept up inside his mind. Sleep meant having to face them.

One night, he dreamt of his own trial.

Light jolted awake with a muffled scream. He was still unsure of where reality laid when L’s ghostly figure passed the doorstep and, without a word, wrapped his arms around him. Light’s body trembled beneath L’s fingertips. _I can let go of this pride,_ he thought bitterly. He sobbed for a long time before falling asleep again.

Three days later, L came with an offer.

“It’s Watari’s birthday today," he stated, “Please, bake a cake with me.”

Still in a haze, Light’s mind focused on the oversized sweater L was wearing. It was black, not suited to his pale skin. Light relished the contrast.

He nodded and followed L to the kitchens. Across the walls, sombre depictions of martyrs in dark frames were lined up. Light averted their sidelong glances, fixed his eyes on L’s back. An earthy taste of liquorice lingered in his mouth – _myrrh,_ he recognized. The saints were all glaring at him.

The mansion was immense and intimidating; Light minced behind L, as he would in a cathedral. They finally reached the deserted kitchens. The light here was blinding, highlighting to them that May had finally arrived. Ingredients had been gathered on the table for them. L plunged a finger in the sugar jar, tasted it. Then, looked over at Light.

“Do you know why I brought you here?” he said. It was soothing to hear his voice again.

Light took a breath. It had been weeks since he talked to someone else than his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. “To bake?”

He should have thought of a better answer.

L prowled to him. Light’s head was pounding. He was too exhausted to play a game, any kind of game. He wished L would just leave him alone.

“We’re not just baking, we’re creating something. Together.”

Light couldn’t repress the shiver that ran through him. L had a unique way of touching him in his core. That made Light want to stay with him forever. To never be understood causes the most ravaging loneliness. He knew that much.

He maintained his composure. “Should we?”

“It feels right. I’m not forgetting the rest. Neither will you. But I want you to live with this, not die from it. Living with it, all of it, is brave.”

“Right,” Light began. His throat was dry. “Still…”

“ _Shhh_ ," L said. He placed one of his slender finger over Light’s mouth, silencing him. It left a sugary taste on Light’s lips.

“Don’t shush me!”

Emotions came in ebbs and flows but Light made sense of them pretty quickly. It was frustration. Frustration to have been caught, to have lost, to have betrayed. He was frustrated, in every way imaginable.

Light resented L for playing with him instead of comforting him. God, he resented him for many slights, some were real, some imagined. They all, somehow, fuelled Light’s lingering obsession for the detective.

“Light wants to play?” L teased, eyes glowing like never before, “Let’s settle this, then.”

Light expected L to punch him, not to spill sugar all over him. He blinked, hesitated, and yielded to that childish part of him only L could awaken. In a heartbeat, Light grabbed the closest jar his hand found and covered L with flour before darting away.

L strode in his direction, leaving a white trail behind him. L knew the kitchens better than him; he managed to corner him, pushed him against a wall beside the table.

“Looks like I win," L drawled. Light held his gaze, sensing a flare of heat coursing through his veins at the sight of that smirk. Even with flour scattered over his raven-hair, L could disarm him – he had to react quickly. He glanced at the table nearby, snatched the first ingredient he saw.

It was an egg. By chance, Light was as tall as L and could perfectly shatter it above the head of his rival. The sticky liquid cascaded over L’s hair and dripped down slowly on the ground.

Light stood still, still trapped between the kitchen wall and L, his heart pounding against his chest in anticipation. L was staring at him, eyes ablaze with a passion he reserved to Light.

“You little brat –“ L finally breathed. And then, he attacked; he slid one of his legs between Light’s, grabbed his arm and pulled. One second later, Light was yelling at him, furious to be laying miserably on the ground while L was straddling him.

“You should have seen this coming, I fight better”

Light felt the heat rising to his face as L’s gaze lingered on him. There was a moment of awkward stillness. Light turned the situation to his advantage and snaked away from L.

“Don’t come any closer!” Light commanded. He held up his arms in defence.

There was an upheaval in their fight. L, who was crawling in his direction, stopped mid-way.

Whether it was because of the slightly high-pitched lilt of his voice or the over-the-top defensive gesture, Light never knew. But L let out a clear, playful laugh Light had never heard before.

L stood up and motioned Light to do the same.

“Don’t we needed it?” he said, his voice so melodious and enchanting Light could only agree. He almost forgot his clothes were smeared with sticky, sweet sugar.

He cleared his throat and said: “I should make amends…to you at least, it feels possible.”

Light had once showed love to L with a mouthful of promises. The chains meant they should die together. It was before he discovered he had been the monster they dreaded, the monster that could pry them away.

Now, he showed his love differently. He closed the space between them.

“Will you let me atone for this?” Light went on.

L placed a firm hand on his neck. “Don’t forget Kira. But don’t forget the Light who helped me arrest him either," he said. “It wouldn’t be fair, to discard that devoted, selfless young man, would it?”

Light nodded.

“Should we bake that cake, now?”  

The surprise had already been spoiled, though. Food fights rarely happen in silence and the muffled sounds drew Watari to the kitchens. He had pushed the door so softly, and they were so focused on each other that they didn’t see him nor did they heard the distinctive sound of a fleeting moment being captured by a cell phone.

Light would invoke that memory after every nightmare. Tell himself he had been chasing Kira as well. It still wasn’t enough. He’d turn around, vainly hoping to sense cold, familiar metal snake around his wrist. And he would breathe, slowly, with those fragile, very human lungs.

**Stargazing.**

_I believe Mello took that photograph. It’s hard to tell, as I can only focus on us when I look at it. The shining stars dispersed across the night sky were never bright enough to distract my attention. For all I knew, we were the only being – just one being - in this world that night._

Light pictured it. Two silhouettes on a rooftop, so close their shoulders are touching. Their legs hang in the air, their eyes are fixed on each other in silent reverence. They whisper against their skins, so softly not even the night hear their words. Light felt a clear-cut gratefulness in being one of these two figures.

He told L of the stars as an astronomer would, but his eyes turned on to the detective instead of the horizon.

“I never knew you were so fond of astronomy,” L confessed. There was a hint of admiration in his voice he didn't try to mask.

Light felt relieved to still have some secrets. It would be terrible, to be another solved riddle. He had to remain a blind spot in L’s universe. For his sake, and for L’s as well.

“It’s an old love," Light answered, unsure of the meaning of his words, “But I never forgotten it”

“Some of the stars we are looking at are already dead, dissolved into the void." L turned his head to Light. “I don’t mind the morbidity of it”

“I didn’t see it that way. I didn’t find the stars morbid at all. In Tokyo, the lights made it impossible to see the stars, but I knew they were here and I longed for the days my eyes would find the lines of constellations quicker than anyone. I had never seen them clearly, but I knew them all. It was rewarding, in a way.”

Silence descended.

Then: “You must have felt so lonely, Light.”

It could have been a tease, but L’s voice lacked venom. It was a statement of truth. A sad realisation.

For so long, Light had only himself for company – a strange, multi-faceted creature, and if he was honest, someone he could never completely trust. Once he realised how deceiving and cruel he could be, he locked up the facets he feared, those he despised, locked them up until the day they burst out, howling, starving. He couldn’t muster up the courage to chain them again. How could he? They had the right to be here, they were rightful in their wrath. They were part of him – maybe more so than the Light Yagami he crafted for the world.

But L tamed the beastly facets of Light in the most intelligent way imaginable. He loved him. And by loving Light wholly, the pristine façade and the sadistic streak underneath, L offered him true companionship at last. It wasn’t a fairytale though; you’re responsible for the monsters you love. Perhaps L didn’t mind playing with fire. He believed he and Light were made of the same fabric after all – _two sinners_ , he’d say _, two sinners devoted to the greater good._

Cold wind swept across Light’s face, pulling him back to the present. He woke up the nerve to hold the hand L had placed on his thigh. Squeezed it. He looked down at their legs hanging in the air, up above the Wammy’s front door. It was strangely exhilarating. He had been intimidated, the first time he laid his eyes on the mansion. It had been towering over him and now he could sit on its roof.

“Did you grew up here?” Light’s query was simple and sweet but it didn't mask the demand beneath. He was asking L to take a leap of faith.

Surprisingly, he did. For once, he was the one averting Light’s gaze.

“Yes. Partly.”

 _Partly_ , Light knew, meant that he was not quite ready yet.

“I hope you trust me enough to tell me about it someday.”

L gave him a half-smile.

Yes, Light was still afraid, damaged beyond repair. There was a cruelty inherent to his being.

At least, someone else knew about this.

Light woke up the nerve to tell L. Not with words; he could lie too easily with those. He cupped L’s face with his hands, sensed the sharpness of his bones under his fingertips and gently kissed the corner of his lips.  

L held his killer hands, sharing his sin; he kissed the lover, accepting his love.

“Do you still have nightmares?” L whispered. His voice hinted of a sincere compassion.

Light breathed, averting L’s eyes. “I do. I dream of my execution." He closed his eyes and heard the distant sound of a tightening rope. A shiver trailed down his spine. “You’re here sometimes. I can’t see your eyes. Are you relieved? Pained? Do you pity me? I can never tell. Still, you’re the only one I dare look at –“ he trailed off.

Light’s head was being gently pushed by L’s hand. Following his silent order, he tucked his head into L’s neck. Light didn’t _see_ him cry, but he felt his inexplicable sorrow and his heart stopped mid-beat.

 

**Underwater.**

_It used to terrify me, what I could do for him. What he could do to me. I always knew that the day I'd fall in love would be the day I lose control. Yet, I can’t renounce what we have. This bond is too perfect, and I crave perfection, more than I need control. That photograph reminds me of that – perhaps nobody can understand it but in my eyes, it represents how he revealed me. I would never drown for anyone else, for anything else. How did he convince me to kiss him under the sea?_

 

By chance, someone had brought one of these waterproof cameras. Without the photograph, it could have as well have been a dream.

Light dived into the water, willing to feel death, to experience the pain, the desperate gasps for air. It felt right. There was nothing except for the strange heartbeat of the water smothering him, his body, his soul and all the sins. The water would fill him, he realised, and he almost wanted to let go.

But he was still too afraid to die. He knew he’d rise above the surface. Light felt an impossible sorrow seizing him.

The temperature dived slightly. He relished the throbbing silence.

Something soft brushed against his waist, a touch so familiar his body responded immediately to it. L’s hand pulled him closer, closer until their lips finally met.

They hadn’t much time. They had to finish the kiss before water filled their lungs so they deepened it. L latched on to Light as if he dreaded to feel him slip away. Light’s fingers danced across L’s back. Light was ever so elegant, even when he endeavoured to drag L into the depths with him.

Muffled moans echoed each other in a morbid, beautiful lament. Light, who pretended to despise love, found himself in someone else’s mouth. In his defence, it was a strange love. It was the only love worth experiencing, he discovered, one with high stakes and the danger of death always lingering in the air.

L will never forget Kira because he accepts it as a part of Light. Light wraps his hands around his neck and whispers prayers to him. Light places the same hands gently on his waist and whispers threats to him. The lilt of his voice isn’t different.   

They pushed themselves above the surface in a single movement. They kissed once again, breathed against each other’s skins. It was a less passionate kiss, but Light didn’t mind. He could find shelter in both.

**Fireworks**

_I think he grasped me, more than I ever will. I never quite realised (admitted) it before the fireworks. The photograph could never capture the sentiment that overpowered me that night. If I could feel it once again in my life, I could maybe die in peace._

In 1732, epidemics and famine robbed millions of souls in Edo. The following year, before the eyes of the survivors, fireworks exploded in the sky up above the Sumida River. In their heart, they all hoped the majesty of it would intimidate malevolent spirits. Light remembered the summer day his mother had told him that. He had felt comforted; the blasts used to frighten him. Now he knew he wasn’t the one they were meant to intimidate; he could let go of his father’s hand. The memory of it made him nauseous.

How many people had left the temple praying for those Kira had slain?

Worse. How many had prayed for him to come back?

That feeling made him irritable. He found himself dreading the blasts of the fireworks again as he stood still, his eyes fixed on the evening sky, his heart pounding in anticipation.

Now, the fireworks had started and L was standing silent beside him, his expression slightly pained, perhaps because of the nasty things Light had said to him on their way to the temple.

L immersed himself in the contemplation of the fireworks, his eyes skimming the sky with an unusual softness. Light detailed his side profile, his spectacular cheekbones and his pale skin, painted in moonlight. 

Light realised how painful it must be, to love the cruel, remorseless parts of him. He was seized by a rush of gratefulness - judged every single of L's outbursts of anger rightful, swallowed every slight. It would be unfair to resent him for shielding himself, after all.

He rested his head on L’s shoulder, silently apologising for the words he threw at him earlier. He expected the instant to fade. He expected L to push him away, because that’s what he would have done in his position.

L’s hand moved to his neck, where it settled, gently skimming the soft, sensitive skin. He accepted Light’s apology and admired the fireworks in silence.

Light’s mouth was stinging with the words he didn’t dare say. He let his body move. A hand, slightly hesitant, was placed on L’s temple. There was an instant of stillness. Then, L’s eyes widened in surprise as they always did when Light pulled him into a kiss.

L closed his eyes, choosing the kiss over the blinding white meteors exploding across the sky. Light latched on to L’s waist, felt the skin under the soft cotton of his yukata. The last firework shell coloured the sky in a blast. It didn’t matter to L and Light. They were still kissing. So, when people applauded, Light imagined they were cheering at them. The timing was perfect. He felt chosen.

Of course, someone from the outside world took a picture of that moment – the two lovers whose embrace rivalled the fireworks.


End file.
